


Terrorising Royaltease

by GothMoth



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Borderline Crack Honestly, Comedy, Danny Getting The Respect He Deserves, Fucking With Vlad, Gen, Ghost Prince! Danny Fenton, Ghosts Need To Be Feared, Identity Reveal, Let Danny say fuck, Puns & Word Play, Pure Cause Of The Way I Wrote It, Reveal, Swearing, The Enigma That Is One Danny Fenton, The Quirks Of Being Ghost Royalty, becoming more ghostly, danny's a little shit, ghost nip, holiday truce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28417305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth
Summary: Danny, as any ghostly royal would, needs to be properly feared. Too bad Danny Fenton is on literally no humans ‘to be feared’ list.
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Valerie Gray, Gray Ghost - Relationship
Comments: 26
Kudos: 102
Collections: A Phantom Rule





	Terrorising Royaltease

**Author's Note:**

> Holiday Truce 2020 gift for @daddyphannypack on Tumblr.  
> Hope you’re cool with swearing ‘cause I got on a roll and went buck wild on this shit. And while this is not crack, the way it’s written might just give it that feel.

So here’s the thing, right? Danny has just recently became The High Ghost Prince, heir to the all high and mighty -and over-fucking-powered in his damn opinion- High Ghost throne. Like, _officially_ , he’s got the Thorn Crown thingy and everything (how the fuck that sharp ass thing doesn’t screw his hair all the way to New York back alley punk levels of choppy as shit, he doesn’t know but he ain’t questioning). There’s just a slight issue. Namely that his royal title _requires_ respect and inspiring fear/unease. 

Like, _literally_. 

As in not only do ghosts treat him all royally n’ shit, but they _have to._ Which, fucking nice honestly. Even if they do still come to try to roundhouse beat his ass like he owes them money in some gangster film but with flashy powers and, surprisingly, more death. Or more dead really, since no one’s ever died due to ghosts in Amity; and thank his lucky stars for that one! 

The problem? _So do humans._ As in his ghostliness literally _will not_ tolerate being disrespected or treated like he’s not fearsome, and neither will the ghosts that are loyal to him or weak. 

He had to have serious words with the FrightKnight when the guy kept showing up to scream -*cough cough* bellow- at any random drivers that mildly attempted to run Danny over (said human driver reasonably expected Danny to MOVE OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY obviously) or didn’t wait for Danny to cross the road. Fuck, Frighty even tried to ‘emulsify’ (his words) a streetlight for saying Danny couldn’t cross. How did Danny rectify that issue? Let himself get run-over of course. On the highway. At ninety miles per hour.

He scared the piss outta that driver so badly that the FrightKnight decided scaring drivers by making them think they might run-over and thusly commit manslaughter against a teen, was a suitable form of instilling fear. And fine, yes it was funny and yes Danny got run-over a lot more these days. 

Why is he thinking about this again? Oh yeah, might, _just might_ , possibly, _maybe_ , have something to do with just having been run-over. Silly him to let that fact slip his mind. 

Some blonde dude -looking way too awake for this shit, or hopped up on a few too many five-hour energy Red Bull mixes- comes running around, shouting, “fuck, shit. Are you okay kid?”, looking down at Danny’s laying-on-a-cement-road ass. It takes blonde hyper-awake dude two seconds to go from shaken startled worry to completely and utterly done with the entire universe, “goddamnit Fenton”, glancing to his car, “at least you didn’t tear off the fucking wheel axis rod thing again”. 

Danny snorts, “eloquent”. To be fair, he had totalled one or two cars via the willing and vaguely intentional road collisions.

“Fuck you, kid”. The guy leaves, driving off while flipping Danny off. Ahhh it’s nice to be loved. Bless his royal ass.

Anyway, Danny picks his (not broken, thank you stupidly enhanced healing factor) body up off the pavement, dusts off his pants, and strolls down the street. Where was he again? 

Well fourty-fifth street and Grave Digger Ave obviously. But he means mentally, 

Right right. The FrightKnight and his car-related hate-boner. Maybe it’s because of the ye knight o’ olden days thing but the dude fucking _hates_ all things vehicular. Danny is not going to ride a _fucking horse_ around Amity. He has standards. When he gets around to things he will drive only the shittiest of shitty ugly ass buggy cars. The kind that makes people's eyes water from the atrocious colour and kids punch each other in a game of Punch Buggy. Fuck you and your rich ass, Vlad. Fuck the modern car industry too, for good measure. That’s some overpriced racket right there. 

Anyway, at least the FrightKnight didn’t actually bring him a horse, like Dora did. And FrostBite scared the living daylights out of a visiting politician when he presented Danny with a _large_ collection of weapons and said political dirty bag walk into the alley. Sure it was hilarious, but it also got the guy to pull out of running for mayor and thus Vlad won without contest. So like, fuck that entire event. It did get all his allies to stop bringing him presents in the Mortal Realm though. Which was something. 

Now it was only too bad that the weakest of ghosts didn’t really have the level of sentience and societal awareness to not blaringly and blatantly fuck with humans that aren’t being ‘inspired to the proper levels of fear’. The population of Whisps? Suddenly mobbing Dash and co. Like seriously, a gaggle of Whisps literally launched themselves out of a water fountain they’d been chilling, at the group of jocks. Dash had screamed like a little bitch. The guy got the ‘don't attempt to drown someone’ message though. Well okay, he got the message in regards to the fountain and only the fountain; based on a soaking wet Mickey fleeing the bathroom later that day.

The SignalShine’s? Suddenly they’re infesting Lancer’s coffee (which Danny was almost offended by, because, like, coffees caffeinated wonder has probably saved his ass more times than he has fingers _and_ toes) and Paulina’s and Star’s liquid makeup (Sam legit cackled like a psychopath over that). Not to mention trying to be all cuddly with Danny. Though yes fine, he did enjoy the whole starry lights aesthetic his black hair had now that he had convinced them to just do the whole ‘cuddle to show our affections and love of the power coming off you in waves’ thing while hidden firmly and safely in Danny’s hair. Dale made the mistake of mocking Danny’s ‘glitter’ hair once. He says ‘mistake’ because he’s pretty sure, based off of the guy’s rank ass smell anyway, that the dude didn’t shower for, like, a week. 

Then there’s the incident where Danny had to pull Cujo off Valerie’s arm by the collar. And fine, maybe he totally ignored Dale and Todd getting chased in the background by ghost monkeys flinging their shit around; Danny was _tired_ alright? Making Valerie hate ghosts even more wasn’t really useful or positive though. Sometimes he swears he’s wrangling in ghosts _more often_ now that he’s THE prince. Which uh, might actually be part of the royal job description. He doesn’t know. He didn’t read it. Was there even official documents stating what his job was and wasn’t? Probably. But whatever. 

There was, uh, one other downfall though. That being...

“Hey you ghostly jackass”. 

Danny sighs internally and looks over his shoulder at Valerie, “my dad’s still the only Jack here, you know”. Yeah that’s right, girl knows his shit. That crap was bound to happen someday. Least she didn’t utterly hate his ass nowadays. Though the ‘not hating Phantom’s entire being’ should be kinda a given and probably a basic requirement since they’re back to smacking lips and the probably excessive cuddle sessions. 

Valerie slugs him in the shoulder, which Danny snarls at her faintly for. “Pretty sure I just saw you get run-over, again”, rolling her eyes at him, “oh chill it, fangsMGee. Maybe you need more practice dodging”, and lets a little patch of red form on her wrist, red that could easily become a pistol. Ancients she still sucks at making threats of violence subtle. 

Danny snorts, she doesn’t actually shoot at him these days; unless he’s really pushing her buttons that is. And if something like him walking down the street and a little mild attempted vehicular manslaughter was all it took to royally ruffle her feathers, then she’d be in need of some serious anger management therapy. Like all of the therapy. Less therapy than Vlad’s crazy fucked up brain though. No one else needed the amount of ‘by the Ancients, get this man’s head screwed back on right’ help that Vlad did. 

Danny does make a point to make sure his fangs get in on the action as he speaks, “I’m perfectly dandy in that department, you know”, she’s the one that brought up his fangs. Her fault. Smirking, “it’s just beneath me to care”. 

“Ancients, you’re such a Jackass”.

“Still not the local Jack”. 

She shoves his head, “oh my god fuck you, ya adorable little shit stain”. A Blob ghost popping up through the ground and stealing her shoe gets her running off though. The slightly unbalanced way she runs off shouting, “get back here, you smarmy little bastard!”, after the thing is more than a little hilarious. If he wasn’t kinda lovers kinda rivals he’d hope she steps on a rock. 

And on the note of Blobs? Well suddenly they’ve made a habit out of eating all of his parents' wiring and anything they can get their little teeth on. Did Danny get blamed? Yes. Did Danny care? No. Did that incident even slightly make them suspicious of him? Somehow, no. His dad did ask him if he sharpened his teeth with a nail file and could now just bite through wiring instead of needing scissors and if maybe Danny could cut such and such wiring for him. Weird request, but he did it anyway. Because fuck having blunt teeth. And sure, maybe he bit harder than necessary and made a loud clacking sound with his jaw just to be intimidating. But could he really be blamed for that?

Which leads to the second half of this little issue. Which was just on wonderful display for Valerie’s pretty curly-haired huntress head. 

Namely that while the ghosts were totally _not cool_ with the whole ‘our Prince isn’t being feared’ thing, Danny had, like, precisely _zero fucking_ _tolerance_ for it. He could be ten seconds away from actively vividly mentally picturing fire roasting someone after marinating them in their own tears or just mildly stomping on a bitches toes. There was that notable time he ranted about how he would rule Dale’s soul one day for a solid half-hour. 

Of course the jock assholes' only response had been, “you fake ass scary little shit. Fuck you have so many problems, with that family of yours who’s fucking surprise. Ha ha”. Danny kicked him in the chin and promised to give him a private tour of the torture dungeon and ‘place them in a pentagramic circle and stab out their eyes to bring about the antichrist’. Which fine, probably a step to far; but fuck, his reference points for what is and isn’t a fucked up threat is so horribly screwed from here to Mars. Tucker butting in asking if they could have barbecue in the Brazen Bull again really lightened Danny’s mood at least. Also made everyone actually believe he actually did have a torture dungeon; which his family did actually have. 

So Dash shoving him in lockers and punching him? Nope. Not happening, the guy is _gonna get bit._ Danny’s not sure how the guy's hand isn’t permanently disfigured by this point; he really has no idea. Dash does have fang mark scars though. Which Danny still can not figure out if he’s vindictively smug about that or stupidly guilty over it. He wasn’t the kinda guy who liked hurting the breakable (anyone who says ghost are breakable too is a dumbass and in need of a good smacking) but he also had more than one scar from that chucklefuck. Tit for fucking tat, bitch.

Okay maybe he’s less guilty about that than he pretends. 

Then there’s the whole event that actually caused Valerie to figure out his shit. Because her treating him like a weak adorable boyfriend that needs to be protected from the ghost dog he literally just ripped of her leg? Hell fucking _no_. He’ll fight her to prove he’s stronger. Even after that she still likes to pretend she’s stronger than him, than Phantom. But he knows that she knows that he’s the stronger ass-kicker in this relationship. Though getting a solid shot from her still felt like getting his ass ran-over by a freight train of hate. Personally, he likes that she’s proud enough of her abilities that she was willing to vaguely try to beat him and all other ghostly menaces like piñatas; yes she still calls his Phantom ass a menace. Just her menace. He likes it. Menace means he’s fearsome. Her calling him that like she means it tickles his little crown-acquired ‘fear me’ need. Which maybe, just maybe, might be the entire reason she does that still. At least her already believing ghosts did everything to be feared resulted in her not judging his shit. Even if her opinions on ghostly fear hunger, or whatever the fuck, was some straight ectophobic bullshit. Eh that’s what happens when you hook yourself up with a ghost hunter who became a ghost hunter for no other reason than pure unadulterated rage-fuelled hatred. 

Then there were the teachers, some of whom were definitely afraid of his ass. That, or they just seriously thought he needed therapy. 

Ms. Testlauf insulting his fitness? Queue broken equipment. Though yes, him tearing the basketball net off the wall and chucking it into a ceiling light was probably ridiculously overboard. The lightbulb glass raining down around him over the backdrop of electrical zapping sounds was cool as fuck, so he thinks that makes up for him being an unnecessary school property damaging fuck nugget. Half the class had burst out laughing after Ms. Testlauf just made a comment about him finally achieving the most basic level of physical competence. If bodily obliterating an entire industrial metal light a solid twenty feet in the air with school property is the baseline for ‘basic competence’ then everyone else is totally _fucked_.

Lancer trying to force (kindly, which did kinda matter. Kinda) career help at him? Nope! Got that shit covered already so back the fuck off. Danny does admire the tenacity though. Considering the guy just _would not_ give up. Hence why Danny went vaguely royal feral dipshit on his ass. Making his Thorn Crown appear in a burst of blue flames, dropping the room temperature to the point where the windows frosted over, and doing jazz hands. Lancer spat out his tea and actually _swore_ , like legitimately _swore_. All of Danny’s annoyance at being underestimated and someone claiming they could land him a better job than being the bloody well king of death had immediately evaporated. Lancer’s cool as shit now and actually has some, like, vaguely decent advice for Danny’s royal bullshit; even though Lancer knew jack all about ghost royalty. English teacher and occasionally bombass vice principal that actually deals with shit unlike the principal, does not qualified to be a royal advisor make. 

His parents meanwhile, weren’t really qualified for _anything_ regarding ghosts other than the whole science and experimentation shit. Which is actually not that good. Danny’s pretty positive part of being High Ghost Prince involves ensuring the continued existence of the Ghost Realm and ghosts in general. Combined with them trying to control him? NO. Fuck they butted heads _so goddamn much_ now. Which was _bullshit_. Because they were cool parents. Weirdly obsessed with dissection, especially the dissection of him/Phantom. But they were still cool and handled that whole ‘him setting his tongue on fire with a lighter as a scare tactic’ thing weirdly well. He’s pretty sure there is literally nothing he could do that would get them to not treat him like a sweet little kid. Vaguely infuriating, vaguely comforting. 

He doesn’t actually want everyone to be terrified of him after all. For, like, a lot of reasons.

Thing is, he’s not entirely willing in his ‘acting out’ and really tries not to. Usually. Sometimes. Oh who is he kidding? Trends point to him leaning into it like a splash of fresh crystalline water on a dehydrated face in the middle of a sandstorm covered desert. Especially when it came to people who have literally always been fucking _dicks_ to him. And damnit, he’s royalty and his body knows it. 

He’s royalty and yet here he is wandering into the Casper High school via kicking in the front doors in a show of being ridiculously overdramatic, meandering down the halls with his hands in his pockets and a definitely stupid smirk on his face. Some roll their eyes at him and his shit, some others giggle or even blush because all those years of ghost fighting equalled him looking like he beat punching bags shaped like every person he hates for fun (he still dressed like hot garbage that didn’t know the words ‘properly fitted’ existed, though), and others merely scowled at him because they were bullies and/or dicks. Course Vlad has to be the _biggest of dicks_ and show his ugly entitled rich ass on the school football field. And, also like a dick, Vlad doesn’t stay the fuck away from him. 

Stupid Vlad and his stupid perpetual belittling and disregarding of Danny’s everything. Stupid pompous ass who can’t just leave Danny alone to handle his shit. Fucker. One-hundred percent a douche-canoe. Like, the biggest douche-canoe. Able to fit every single quality of dickishness and being a creepy little bitch into one canoe made out of ‘I’m a rich asshole who thinks I can buy the world with all this cash, call me Rich Uncle Money Bags and be my son’ wood. 

Then Vlad speaks up with a stupid pompous look on his stupid pompous face, “Daniel”.

Danny glares, “eat a dick”. Vlad, of course, smirks like he’s in control of bloody well fucking everything. Which really just drives Danny up a wall. Especially because Vlad hasn’t seriously gotten the drop on him in three months. 

Which, huh, isn’t actually all that long. Fuck him so goddamn much. Danny is seriously wondering if going whole-ass anarchist against those in places of political power and wealth would be worth the effort just to piss Vlad off even slightly. Or should he just go the good ol’ ‘surprise ecto-blast to the knee’ route. That was probably less work in all honesty. And he’s perpetually tired, and being around this fuck face only drains down his ‘awakeness’ meter more. 

“In case you’re wondering, which I’m sure you are; not that you would figure anything out on your own”, Vlad gestures to the football field, “I’ve elected to allot a fair bit more funding to the local sports programs”, looking over everyone around like they were little mice beneath his stupid shiny expensive ass shoes, “as unskilled as nearly all of them are”. Earning him more than a few glares and even snarls from a few people in earshot. 

Danny just keeps on glaring, “look at all the fucks I give, you fucking frootloop. Can’t you see just _how much_ I _goddamn care_ in my _goddamn eyes,_ you pale ass fuck”.

Which only Vlad makes smirk more, “oh come now, I know how much you love those jocks, after all”. 

Oh for Ancient's sake. Fuck this guy so goddamn much, god. Why does he have to put up with this bullshit? Fuck, does he even have to? HA HA NO. Are they in public? Yes. On a scale of one to ten how much does he care? Eh, like a six. Yes he does, in fact, care about his secret identity but anyone who thinks he’s some regular-ass human at this point is a straight-up fucking dick knuckle of an idiot. And considering his ghostly ego and legitimate need of being fear-inducing kept just resulting in him revealing shit to people. Also, like, fuck Vlad’s entire existence. He is goddamn here for royally eviscerating Vlad’s ass all over the school's shitty ugly ass football greens or whatever the nine shits it’s actually properly called.

Does he care? NO. Fuck caring. EAT THE RICH. _Especially_ ones with fangs and the stupidest fucking horn-shaped ghostly haircut ever. 

Sneering at Vlad, “this is probably the most stupid way to offhandedly pay for another beings suffering. You just don’t wanna ‘sully your hands’, or whatever the fuck, with doing shit yourself”, putting a bit of fang into it, “what? Whittle vampire baby ass knows he can’t handle all this royal boss meat?”, Danny vaguely flexes just for shits and maybe a little emphasis. Bless his stupid ass for tripping on a t-shirt this morning and thus deciding to wear that, thus making said mild flexing actually noticeable. “Maybe a near-death experience or two will get you to accept me as your lord and master”. 

Vlad quirks and eyebrow and crosses his arms, “now now, we wouldn’t want any unwitting ears now woul-”. 

“Fuck their possible overly inconvenient and thus totally planned by you, overhearing of me and my shit”. 

Vlad rolls his eyes, sounding more than a little sarcastic, “yes, there being _people_ on a football field built for _people to use_ is _totally_ my fault”.

Danny scoffs, “you being here is your fault, and not like I’d ever believe you about anything involving normal human social behaviour. You’re like a little angry fucked up chihuahua nipping at a T-Rex’s ankle or some shit”. 

“Don’t go overestimating yourself, Daniel. Especially here”. Is it just Danny or does Vlad actually seem slightly nervous? Hahaha yes, bloody well _beg_ you pain in the ass tit. 

Danny smirks and puts his face right in Vlad’s, having to lean up on his toes some; fuck the guy and his adult height, “I’ll overestimate myself all over this place. Though if you would overestimate yourself out of existence that would really improve my mood; you’re pretty close to doing that as it is by thinking you have any remote amount of shit to hold over my head”. 

“Money for starters”.

Danny snorts, “ahhh yes your burglar fetish, appreciate the reminder why you’ll never step foot into my castle. A kleptomaniac would make a better house guest”. 

“You wound me”.

“I fucking hope so”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “considering all the innocent bystanders and watchful eyes you really sure hope not”.

Oh that so totally does it ‘cause vamp-ass obviously is being disrespectful and deeming and falsely thinks that since they’re in the school football field surrounded by people and Danny’s in human form that he won’t/can’t do anything. Which, like, cap a dollop of sour cream on that shit so at the very least that line of horse crap will taste less noticeably like horse crap. “Ancients fuck, do you _want_ me to decide that today is absolutely a pro-ocular trauma kinda day? ‘Cause I won’t hesitate, bitch”. Danny is approaching ten miles past the town of ‘Done With This Fucking Shit’ and soon to be entering the shitty little hamlet of ‘One, Two, Three, Come Here To Murder A Bitch Without A Fee’. 

Vlad’s sarcastic, “right, of course, Daniel”. Sounds like one bullshit way of saying ‘you don’t have the balls’. Totally a challenge. And his smug ugly mug clearly thinks Danny ain’t about to go anywhere near stepping up to the goddamn plate. 

Danny glares, “you are a-hundred metric fucktons of a dick. Your cat is the only redeeming quality that exists within even a thousand feet of you. Piss off or I’m gonna McFreaking lose it on your ass, you stupid hopped up fruitcake. If someone were to marinate the shitty little cherries used in the batter to make up your shitty little genetic make up I fucking guarantee the marinade would be the shittiest of shitty moonshine known to mankind”. 

Vlad huffs, “at least you’re getting creative and expanding you highly limited vocabulary”, turning away from Danny and waving dismissively, “you have fun with your fantasy of grandeur, Daniel. I’ll be busy achieving them”. 

“Oh fuck you so goddamn much”. Danny looks to the side and the ground. Yup. Fuck it. Fuck this. Fuck today. Fuck everything. Time for a kick-ass secret move: stab a bitch in the eye but with fire. Hooray for ocular trauma! So Danny does the dumbshit and steps on the pricks stupidass fancy stick up the ass shoes. Which, of course, makes him turn around with a quirked eyebrow, “really Daniel? I would have expected more maturity fro-”, Danny cuts him off by moving stupid quickly and effectively jabbing his fingers in the pricks eye, promptly blasting a bigass plume of blue flames in the nutcases face. Vlad is actually surprised enough to get his ass landed on the ground; Danny’s a little fucking proud of that. 

Vlad blinks the eye that he isn’t holding a hand over, “wha-”. Danny cuts him off yet again, because it’s fucking fun shut up, by dramatically snapping his fingers while gesturing said finger snap from left to right as exaggeratedly as possible. Making his crown of thorns and cape burst into existence with a blast of blue flames. His eyes flaring green in menace and white flames blazing around his fingertips and from under his feet. He burns the shit outta the grass. Whatever, not his fucking problem; he ain’t paying for any Danny-related damages.

Danny leaning down towards Vlad’s face, “I fucking hope I look like the vision of the devil on your heels because the only worth your crazed up ass has is for me to have something to take out my revengence on”, Danny spreads his arms out, vaguely gesturing to the people around though remaining bent over and in Vlad’s face, “look around, you twat. Can’t you just see every single one of the fucks I give. Good luck unfucking this situation now, you pompous-ass sack of potatoes. Shut the fuck up and let me do my shit!”. 

Kwan chuckles off to the side awkwardly, “that kid is fucking terrifying”, shaking his head, “but you fucking tell off the one percent that closed the herbary!”. 

Vlad puts up his hands, “now now, Daniel. I’m sure this is rather unnecessary”. Danny, however, is not an utter dumbass and thus is well bloody aware of the duplicate Plasmius Vlad went and made. Said making of the duplicate is probably the only reason the prick stayed on the ground, so no one would notice his shit. 

So Danny puts one arm behind his back and just summons down a fuck torrential downpour of goddamn hellfire from the sky on Plasmius’s ass.

Putting his face closer to Vlad’s as the Plasmius clone gets his ass utterly obliterated, “bitch you thought”, spitting bits of white flame out of his mouth as he speaks for the theatrics of it all, “I’m exasperated with your utter bullshit and give no fucks. You done cocked up”, and punches the rich prick out cold. Vlad technically could have avoided that but clearly the guy cared more about not revealing the whole halfa thing than Danny did about not revealing the royalty thing. Makes goddamn sense. All Danny had to lose was the rest of his life and any kind of human future. No biggy. 

Danny straightens up and looks around, haha fuck him so much. Surprise surprise everyone is staring at him. Granted he’s all caped, crowned, and flaming like Hell actually _was_ at his heels. Which, I mean, technically ‘Hell’, or the afterlife really, really actually factually was at his heels and beneath his heels. Being Prince and all that shit. Ancients, what was his half-life. 

Glancing up, yup Lancer’s looking down from one of the classroom windows sipping at tea or some shit. Lancer lifts up his cup in a friendly salute. 

This town is fucking insane. He goddamn _loves it_. But still, fuck these other pricks and their stupid belittling and lack of fearing/respecting his shit. Gesturing his hands/arms around wildly, “fuck all o’ ya’ll”, then, predictably, the universe decides to just be a straight-up dick or maybe a godsend. _Literally_. Haha get it, cause ClockWork just appeared and they’re, like, probably accurately a legit god and shit. 

ClockWork pats a hand on Danny’s shoulder, moving their other hand past Danny’s head, holding out a little baggy next to Danny’s face. Ten guesses what that is, and the first nine don’t count. 

It’s fucking Ghost Nip. Because of fucking course it is. Hooray for ghost drugs! Peace out bitches, he’s riding high on out of this goddamn bullshit train of a buffalo shit covered day. Fuck. 

Danny grabs the bag aggressively and full force smashes it into his face. Probably horribly bruising his nose and causing the bag to bust apart, a puff of Ghost Nip powder plumes into the air in a hazy cloud. 

Danny passes the shit out on the grass like a little bitch, and his unconscious self feels precisely zero shame about that fact.

ClockWork sits on his back and polishes their staff nonchalantly, then smirking as everyone starts freaking the fuck out. 

Principal Ishiyama walks somewhat nearby, ignoring the chaos around, “does he need medical attention? Because if he dies the school’s not paying the negligent wrongful death suet”. 

ClockWork waves her off nonchalantly and without so much as glancing at her, “don't worry yourself about it. He’s quite fine. Merely incredibly high”. She huffs, crosses her arms, and walks off, “I don’t get paid enough for this shit”.

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> requested prompts filled (or at least mentioned)  
> Valerie reveal  
> Mr. Lancer reveal  
> Ghost nip 👁👄👁  
> Ghost Prince! Danny  
> ClockWork shenanigans


End file.
